One New Message
by GlitterAndSweaters
Summary: If these feelings were really true, why was I not kissing him back? Why was I just standing there with my eyes wide? My stomach dropped almost to the ground as Craig stared at me, taking the cigarette from my mouth. "I like you, Stan." My body froze. What was I going to say? (Staig Stan/Craig, yaoi)


**A/N: Well, now that I have learned of this pairing's existence, I am going to write about it. This is a South Park fic, I'm sorry that my first fic on this account isn't Malec-related, like I promised. Buuuut, it involves Stan from South Park! Does that make up for you? I hope it does.  
Okay, enjoy this Staig fic!**

**Chapter One: Cigarettes and Snow**

A puff of smoke drifted out into the air in front of Stan's face. He took out the cigarette that hung from his mouth, and turned to see the snowflakes falling outside. His blue eyes continued to keep an unamused expression. Another day that would go nowhere, he thought.

And, he was never wrong when assuming about how the day would go.

He had leaned how to call a bad day from a good one, and an average one. After all of his adventures with Cartman, Kyle, and Kenny, the male had learned that just from the way his day started, it would be shit. He glared at the seemingly never-ending snow. _Why does it always snow in Colorado? Why can't it always be snowy in California, or somewhere that isn't here?_

Stan tried to distinguish the figure that had just walked out of the house across from his. A boy with floppy black hair, deep brown eyes, and a blue hat with a tattered yellow puffball on top. He scoffed as Craig took a glance at him. He raised a hand, causing the man on the other side of the street to puff more smoke from his cigarette.

Craig glared, as he then took the mail from his mailbox, took a ball of snow from the ground, and chuck it across the street. He flipped his middle finger to Stan before walking back into his house nonchalantly.

_What the hell did he just do? Did. . .did he flip me the fuck off?_

Stan glared, crushing the butt of his cigarette in the marble ashtray on the end table in his living room. He pulled out his phone, noticing a text from Craig. While he didn't know why he'd saved Craig as a contact, it was nice to always know he had someone to turn to when Kyle had to stop texting him because of homework and his new private school.

Kyle had gone to a Catholic school, which was absolute torture for him. While he was glad that his friend had gotten into a higher level of education, Stan was jealous that he couldn't follow, or compare to his friend's grades. When he attended South Park High, he got all A's in everything, even gym. How he had done it, the world would probably never know.

With a sigh, Stan checked the message.

**Hey Stan. Whatcha doing?**

He looked outside the window, seeing Craig sitting outside on a tire swing in his front yard, probably texting (Or more likely sexting) Tweek. Stan responded with haste.

_Not much. Enjoying your swing?_

Craig took a glance at the house across from his, then nodded.

**I'm trying to forget that I'm in 12****th**** grade and I still am single. Dammit, why must I remember?**

Stan gave a small smile as he continued to text the other boy.

_You're not with Tweek? According to Bebe, you two have been making out in the bathrooms before and after school. Sometimes even during._

Craig raised an eyebrow, before they furrowed together.

**No, we haven't been speaking that often anymore. What about you and Kyle? You haven't been sneaking out at night to make sweet love to him?**

Stan's eyebrows shot up, as he then shook his head violently.

_No! No! No way at all! Ew, why the hell do people assume this fucked-up shit?!_

**Oh, I do not know, Stan. But, there is a question that I have.**

He looked at the boy on the tire swing, before he responded.

_What is your question?_

A long pause of Craig staring at Stan lasted until he looked back down at his phone, spinning around on the swing as he did so.

**Are you...y'know...gay? You know, I'm just wondering, dude.**

It was at that point that Stan turned off his phone, flipped the bird to Craig, and stormed up to his room.

_Why the hell do people think I'm gay?!_

He looked in the mirror, inspecting his appearance. Black mascara was rubbed around his eyes, a black Queen sweater clung to his thin torso, and he wore normal black jeans that he tucked into his Doc Martens. Stan shook his head, as he pulled his blue and red hat over his eyes.

_Ugh. . .I am _totally_ gay. . ._

Just before he could collapse on his bed, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He violently pulled it out of his pocket as he then unlocked it.

**I'm sorry if I offended you, really. I was only wondering because...well...I think I'm gay, and I wanted to know from someone who really was. Text me back when you want to talk again.**


End file.
